


And the Winner Is...

by romanticalgirl



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-11
Updated: 2013-05-11
Packaged: 2017-12-11 12:07:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/798588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl





	And the Winner Is...

"Arrogant, bull-headed, obnoxious, overbearing" Willow muttered to herself as she pushed open Giles' front door. She glanced around the room, surveying the damage from the previous night's fight. Broken windows were covered with towels and blankets, arrow holes adorned the walls, the dishes were clean, but stacked up in precarious piles. Looking for the object of her tirade, she grew even more irritated with his apparent lack of being there. "Domineering, demanding, despotic"

"Been reading the dictionary again? Or just the thesaurus?" Giles walked out of the hallway off the kitchen, shutting the book in his hand. "Or does your tirade have a point?" 

"You know perfectly well what my point is," Willow reminded him. "And you know perfectly well who I'm talking about." 

He leaned against the back of the couch, letting the book rest against his thigh. "If I recall the events of last night, Willow, the cause you championed came to visit and tried to kill us. Or did that conveniently slip your mind?" 

"Of course not!" She placed her hands on her hips, angry at the accusation. "All I was trying to say was that killing someone who was trying to simply get back what was his"

"By killing people." 

"That we took from him"

"Innocent people." 

"Wasn't necessarily the right answer." 

"Willow, if this had been a person searching for retribution or reparations, that would have been different. But this was an avenging warrior spirit seeking revenge on those he felt had destroyed his people. Several innocents died at his hands." 

"You just refuse to admit I might be right." 

"I refuse to admit nothing. I think you're being foolish and shortsighted. I think that your separation from Oz has skewed your viewpoint on key issues." 

"Don't talk about Oz." Her voice was tight and controlled, her eyes dark and hard as she looked at him. "This isn't about Oz." 

"I think that you've gone overboard on causes, I think that you're feeling some sort of residual guilt from Oz's leaving and now you're trying to assuage that guilt, which, while admirable, is not what you need to be doing. You need to realize that Oz left because that was what was best for him and it was what he needed to do. Not necessarily wanted to do, but needed to. And it had absolutely nothing to do with you, except perhaps, that he wanted to keep you safe." 

"I told you this isn't about Oz." She stepped closer. 

Giles, intent on his subject, ignored her advance. "And I think that the sooner you accept it and realize that, when it comes to demons and the like, I might have a better grasp on the situation and, while I feel for you and your hurt, you cannot let it cloud your thinking when people's lives are at risk." 

Willow glared at him. "You don't know me." 

"I do, Willow. I know how it is to feel guilty when someone leaves you before you're ready for them to. I know how it feels to want more time. But you can't let it affect how you view things such as this. I know you miss Oz"

Willow swung wildly, her slap connecting with his cheek. Her eyes were wide and her teeth clenched, whether from anger or surprise, Giles couldn't tell. "I said, this isn't about Oz." He simply stared at her, watching in fascination as tears started rolling down her cheeks. She looked down at her hand then back up at the red mark rapidly forming on Giles' cheek. 

"Why don't I believe you?" 

"It'sit's about what's right and what should have happened. It's about paying for what we did wrong and having it all work out in the end. It's about" her tears overtook her and she stopped speaking, still unable to process the fact that she'd just slapped Giles. "I hate you." 

The whispered words hit him like a hammer to the stomach. He straightened, setting the book on the back of the couch. "Well then, don't be afraid to use the door." He walked stiffly into the kitchen, refusing to look at her, even though he could feel her eyes on him. 

She started after him, stopping in the doorway of the kitchen. "Giles, I"

"Go on, Willow." 

"But I"

"You've done enough damage here today. I believe you've gotten your opinion of me across very clearly and I don't think you need say anymore. Run along." 

"Damn it!" She stormed into the kitchen; grabbing his arms and making him face her. "I am not a child! Quit treating me like I am." 

"Quit acting like one," he suggested coldly. "You're argumentative, you refuse to listen, you refuse to use that vast wealth of knowledge you have past what you already know. You feel as though if it's not your way then it's not any way at all. And I don't need that." 

"You're the one who refuses to listen. You're the one who is always right, even when you're wrong! You're the one who" she stopped as Giles grabbed her arms and pulled her toward him, almost lifting her off the floor. 

"I'm the one whowhat?" He snarled. 

"You're the one who treats me like I'm made of glass, ready to break at any second. You're the one who refuses to see that I've grown up. You're the one who still sees me as the innocent who welcomed you to the library on the first day. You're the one who's seen me grow up the most and you're the one who refuses to acknowledge it!" She struggled in his arms, trying to loosen his grip. "You're the one who won't see me for who I am." Her courage faded and her accusations grew quieter, but the question still remained. "Why won't you see me, Giles?" 

"Because," he told her through clenched teeth, "Seeing you like that makes me want to do this." His lips descended rapidly, attacking her mouth, bruising the soft lips. She gasped at the assault, her mouth opening. Giles pressed the advantage, pushing her up against the counter and holding her there with his body. 

After an eternity of breathlessness, he released her, stepping back. Willow clutched at the counter, trying to keep on her feet as he let her go. His chest was heaving as he struggled for breath, his whole body shaking as he backed up quickly, running into the opposite counter. 

Willow was wide-eyed. She bit her lower lip out of habit, flinching when she encountered broken flesh. Giles saw her body's quick movement and met her eyes for a brief second. "II apologize," he said huskily, unable to hold her gaze. "I had no right. I hadI shouldyou should go. I" He looked up again, surprised as she rushed forward and pressed hard against him, her body fitting to his as she kissed him just as hungrily as he had her. 

The force of her body propelled him against the counter, as she seemed to climb up him to kiss him, licking and nibbling on his lips as her tongue sought purchase to his mouth. He gave in willingly, letting her explore his mouth, winding his arms around her. 

He leaned back, needing the support as his knees trembled, nearly buckling as she ground against him, her body warm and supple on his. She broke the kiss and stood in his embrace, panting heavily. Her eyes were smoky with desire, her voice breathless as she spoke. "This is what you want to do when you see me?" 

He nodded, his lips melting against hers. He tightened his arms around her, grinding against her. She gasped against his lips as his erection pressed on her stomach, hard and demanding. "This and more," he whispered, capturing the words between their lips. She moaned softly, rolling her hips in a circle, rubbing against the length of him. 

He let out a shuddering sigh, grabbing her bottom and pulling her up so that the growing dampness between her thighs was nestled against his now-tight slacks. She groaned this time, winding her hands around his neck. She broke away from the kiss and buried her face in his neck, licking the warm skin. "Rupert?" She breathed. 

He staggered forward, his knees threatening to give way. Sliding her onto the counter in front of him, he leaned into her. "Willow," he moaned, holding her tightly as she shifted on the counter, driving him mad with every movement. "God, honey, stop moving." 

She grinned, nibbling her way down his neck to his shoulder, making sure to wiggle a bit more. The groan turned to a growl and he picked her up again, this time heading out of the kitchen, toward the stairs. She moved her arms from around him and brought them to her chest. As he carried her up to his bedroom, she slowly unbuttoned her blouse, allowing him a growing hint of her soft creamy flesh. 

Giles whimpered, never realizing how long one flight of stairs could be. When he reached the top, he pressed her against the wall and lowered his head, burying it in the valley between her breasts. His tongue curled under the lace of her bra, stroking the smooth skin. Nudging the material out of the way, he managed to wrap his lips around her nipple, suckling the hard tip. 

Willow pressed her head back against the wall, forcing her hips forward to meet his. Her skirt was hiked up around her thighs, allowing him access to the hot juncture of her thighs. He pulled her hips forward, the thin material of his slacks not hiding how much he wanted her nor keeping him from feeling the burning intensity of her own need. 

The thin cotton of her damp panties rubbed against his slacks as she moved her hips, the wet material's movements sending shivers of excitement through her, stroking the hungry flesh. Giles shifted his grip on her, slipping one hand further under the curve of her ass so that he could push his fingers under the fabric, brushing the tips of them along the velvety edge of flesh. 

Willow cried out, her whole body shaking in his arms. "I've barely touched you," he admonished with a soft chuckle. She bucked against him, her head hitting the wall with every motion. Wincing in response, Giles pulled her away from the wall and stumbled into the bedroom. 

He lay her on the bed, stepping back and shucking his clothes, stained with her arousal. Tossing them aside without thought, he moved back to her, growling low in his throat as he smoothed himself along her body, stretching her out so that they fit together easily. His bare body was hot as he moved over her, pushing her T-shirt up as he went. Willow raised her arms, tugging it off of her, arching her back slightly, thrusting her breasts out toward him. 

Giles nudged her hair away from her face with his nose, nuzzling her ear, his warm breath sending shivers along her spine, causing her whole body to shake. His fingers roamed casually over her stomach, dancing across the warm skin, finally finding the clasp of her bra and unhooking it. Moving the lacy garment aside so that his fingers could find her nipples, he played with the firm skin, rolling the hard nubs between thumb and forefinger while his tongue and teeth teased her earlobe, wreaking havoc on her nervous system. 

Willow shivered uncontrollably, his practiced hands driving her to heights she'd never imagined. She reached out, her hand running along his arm, feeling the muscles tighten and cord beneath the skin as her fingers passed over it. Giles pulled away, leaving the warm hollow of her neck to stare down at her, his eyes dark with need. 

Willow felt the blush covering her skin, her whole body warming just from his gaze. His fingers released the distended flesh of her nipple, trailing back down her stomach until he encountered her skirt. She let her hand move down his arm until her hand rested on his. "It seems almost unfair," she noted softly. "I'm way overdressed for this occasion." 

"Shall we remedy that?" He asked just as softly, his eyes sweeping down the length of her torso, hot on her skin. 

She moved, hooking her fingers under the waistband and pushing both the skirt and underwear down, kicking it to the floor with her feet. Giles' gaze continued down her body, noting the damp curls at the juncture of her thighs and her long, slender legs. 

Her eyes took him in as well, the rough hairs on his legs, dark and golden all at once, brushing her soft skin as he moved closer. His chest, scarred and muscled, covered with the same hair, soft and rough all at once under her fingers as she touched him, rubbing his hard nipples, reveling in his soft hiss as she pinched them gently. 

Her eyes wandered down over his stomach, tight and hard from hours of training Buffy, to his erection, straining forward, begging for attention. Her hand slid down his chest, the hair tickling her palm until she found the hard flesh and wrapped her hand around it, drawing another hiss from him. 

Giles felt every muscle in his body tightening, his body surging forward into her hand, moisture staining her fingers as she teased the tip, swiping her thumb over the opening then smoothing it down the sensitive skin. He shivered, his arms contracting around her and pulling her closer. He found her lips again, capturing the bottom one between his teeth, tugging at it gently until she pressed forward, deepening the contact. 

Willow wanted to devour him, taste him, consume him. The irritation that had colored the past two days with him, the anger that had boiled under her skin since Oz had left her so abruptly, the annoyance bred from everyone treating her as if she was fragile and didn't know her own mind drove her to this. The rough kisses, the firm grasp as she stroked him, the burning passion that seemed to move in her stomach, making her feel weak and powerful all at once. 

It was like a living thing inside her, the need mixed with desire and anger, as she bit his lower lip, smiling pridefully as he flinched, pulling back, his eyes slightly wary. "Are you sure you want to play rough?" He growled. 

She nodded, shoving at his shoulder and pushing him down onto the bed. His body was tight and hard, resisting, which made her smile all the more. She wanted to fight him for this; this is what she'd wanted to fight him for all along. 

As soon as he was flat on his back, she straddled his thighs, her hand still moving over his erection. She could feel the movement under the skin, the blood rushing down, showing her how much he wanted her, how much her touch affected him. Getting up onto her knees, she moved forward slightly, brushing her body against the tip, mixing his moisture with her own. 

Giles' hands curled into fists, holding the sheets in a death-grip as she teased him with her heat, bringing it just over the head of his cock then moving it away. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself inside of her, but knew that he needed to let her do thisshe needed to do it. 

Willow watched his face, her smile one of satisfaction and power. Moving over him once more, she guided his erection to her opening and slowly lowered herself onto him. Their mutual hiss of fulfillment and pleasure filled the silent room. Tensing the muscles of her bottom, she tightened her hold on his cock, squeezing it inside her just as she started to move. 

His groan was almost primal, animalistic and inhuman as he grabbed her hips, unable to hold back any longer. He thrust up, hard and demanding, his body not wanting softness or caring, not needing the sweet platitudes of lovemaking so much as it needed the feel of her all the way to his soul. He needed her to be part of him; he needed to be part of her. 

Willow cried out, bucking against his hot, sweaty skin, their rhythm nothing more than a frenzied grinding and pumping, without elegance or grace. Nothing like the restrained passion she shared with Oz or the guilty pleasure she'd derived from Xander. Instead it was messy and wet, slippery and inelegant. When she came, her thighs clenched around his, her muscles contracting, squeezing him, coaxing his orgasm from him. 

She let out a soundless shout, her mouth opening as she shuddered and squirmed atop him, the rush of wetness coating him, covering him, claiming him as her own. He dug his fingers into the smooth skin of her ass, thrusting up hard and fast several times before the tightness of her passage seemed to wring his climax out of him, leaving him exhausted, sated and completely spent. 

Willow fell forward, her whole body feeling weak and boneless. Giles lay beneath her, his breath shallow and fast, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He raised a hand, as if to stroke her hair, but it fell back to his side. "I'd hold you, but I don't know that my arms can move that far." 

"I'm exhausted," she admitted. 

"Well, we're new at this," he noted. "Together, at least." 

"You think we'll get better?" 

"More calm, perhaps. Better than perfectionrather intense perfection, is fairly difficult to achieve." He turned his head to look at her. "Is this what you had in mind as an ending to our argument?" 

She shrugged. "Maybe?" 

"In that case, I'm glad we reached an impasse at the dinner the other night." 

She grinned. "So, if this is the argument's resolution, who won?" 

"I would say I did." 

"Me." She insisted. 

"Tie?" He offered. 

Grinning wickedly, Willow rubbed a small circle on his chest as her body shifted on his, rubbing against his still partially erect penis. "You think you're up for a tie-breaker?" 


End file.
